


Let's Do What the Furries Do!

by Moonlark



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Anthrocon 2014, Fourth of July, Gen, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1907979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlark/pseuds/Moonlark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, with all the furries walking around, we'd fit right in, huh? No one would look twice."</p><p>Jeff sighs, rolling his eyes in the slowest, largest, most exaggerated movement he can manage. "Yeah, no. The furries are people in animal costumes, not actually animals. I have no desire to end up in the pound, or," he shudders, "the zoo."</p><p>--</p><p>Because, as Cutch said, <a href="https://twitter.com/TheCUTCH22/status/485442384730152960">furries</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Platonic wolfy pitchers doing platonic wolfy things. Oh, and fireworks. And freedom.

They're just lounging around that morning, too lazy and relaxed to shift, but enjoying the company nonetheless. There's a game at five, and Gerrit's pitching, but this is an important pack bonding activity, even if there are only two wolves present (it's better when Neil and Jordy can come over or when Tony's up in the majors, but this is still good).

"Hey," Gerrit says, tapping at something on his phone, "you ever think about what it would be like if we didn't have to hide at all?"

"What?" Jeff looks up from where he's draped across the back of the couch, mostly upside down. It's not the most comfortable position, but he doesn't feel like moving right now and besides, Gerrit's already using him as a headrest. "Like, if we could just go out in broad daylight?"

"Yeah, like—I dunno, go get dinner, and then change right there in the street, head to the park and go for a jog." Gerrit's shoulders jerk in a kind of half-shrug.

Jeff laughs. "Well, I'm pretty sure changing in the middle of the street would get you arrested for indecent exposure, for one. Then, you'd also have the problem of clothes being left behind, or ripping." 

Gerrit shrugs again. "Well..."

"But yeah, it would be kinda nice not having to worry about someone finding out all the time." It's Jeff's turn to shrug, and he looks back down at his phone. 

"Yeah," Gerrit sighs, and silence (broken by the tap of fingers on phone screens) reigns.

A few minutes later, Jeff swears as his runner gets killed. 

"What?" Gerrit asks.

"Fucking zombies."

"Oh."

"What're you playing?"

"Kim Kardashian Hollywood."

" _Really?!_ "

"Yes. And it is really hard to get a date in this."

Jeff groans. Why? he thinks, knowing that the game's gonna make its way through the team like a plague now.

"Hey," Gerrit says interrupting his thoughts, "with all the furries walking around, we'd fit right in, huh? No one would look twice."

Jeff sighs, rolling his eyes in the slowest, largest, most exaggerated movement he can manage. "Yeah, no. The furries are people in animal costumes, not actually animals. I have no desire to end up in the pound, or," he shudders, "the zoo."

"Yeah, the zoo would probably be... stinky."

"Understatement of a lifetime," Jeff mutters, and flips himself around. Gerrit protests briefly as his headrest is disrupted, but settles down the moment he can lay his head on Jeff's (now upright) stomach again. 

"Show me how this game works," Jeff mumbles, peering down at Gerrit's phone. The next hour passes quickly as they are immersed in"hollywood". It's just as bad as Jeff though it would be, and yet it's also strangely addicting.

Too soon, it's time to leave for the ballpark. Coming in toward PNC, Jeff happens to glance out the window—and catches sight of a group of furries crossing the bridge. He points them out to Gerrit, and the other pitcher laughs and starts a game of Spot the Furry. "Look, there's a cat!"

"That one's a mouse!"

"There's a fox in a Link costume!"

"It's a green hawk!"

"There's a—What is that one, some kind of pastel coyote?"

Jeff gets a look at the furry in question and says, "I think it's a wolf..."

"That's a wolf?! That is not a wolf! Wolves are not... we don't look like the paint section of a Home Depot exploded on us!" Gerrit slams his hand on the steering wheel, and Jeff flinches as the car veers slightly.

"Careful, you slipped into first person there," he grins.

"Oh. Right. Shouldn't do that."

Then they're parking, and Jeff slips out of the car after Gerrit just like the furries slip out of the minds of both. It's game time.


	2. Chapter 2

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"C'mon Jeff, it was just a little tightness. Not a big deal."

"Took you out of the game... you absolutely sure you're fine?"

"Yes, I'm sure. It was just precautionary. Now what were you saying before about the fireworks tonight?"

"Hey, well..."

"Oh no. No, Jeff."

"I bet they look totally different through wolf eyes..."

"NO, Jeff."

"But there are plenty of trees to hide in..."

"NO!"

———

They end up at the Point, arguing about whether they should stay on the grass or go right up to the fountain. Gerrit wins, and they end up perching on the flat rim of the fountain, staring out at the rivers meeting before them. In the darkness, with everyone focused on the sky, nobody even looks twice at them. 

There's a furry next to them—nothing special, just a petite blond boy with a fluffy black and white tail. Jeff briefly wonders if wearing the tail is itchy. Then he notices it attaches to the back belt loop, so there's no skin contact there.

Hey, it's not like he knows much about how furry costumes work.

_BOOM!_

The ear-shattering blast makes him jump, and he whirls around before realizing that it's just announcing the start of the fireworks show. Beside him, Gerrit's laughing, and it makes Jeff's skin itch in a weird way, like part of him wants to change but the rest isn't ready to yet...

But there are fireworks to watch. They're beautiful, and Jeff's heart swells with American pride, even when three of the fireworks malfunction (instead of soaring up off the barge, they plunge into the river and then explode upward. At first Jeff thinks there's a submarine).

All too soon, the show is over, and they walk back to the car. Jeff falls asleep against the window, cheek sticking to the glass as the purr of the engine lulls him into a drowsy darkness. He's woken by a hand on his shoulder, and, still half asleep, it takes him a few minutes to remember why they're parked in North Park rather than in the usual quiet residential neighborhood.

A howl rips through the air, far-off, questioning yet commanding—Neil. Jordy's howl answers, less of a ' _where is everyone?_ ' and more like ' _I'm here!_ '

"C'mon, they're waiting for us," Gerrit says, talking over J-Hay's deep and resonant howl.

Fifteen minutes later, the car is dark and abandoned as two wolves stream away from it. Jeff pauses briefly to send up a howl, letting the others know they're close. Gerrit, the bastard, doesn't even slow down.

Jeff sprints after him, pushing himself to his limits. In human form, he's not the fastest guy around, but somehow he got blessed with speed in his wolf form. He pours all his focus into speeding forward, chasing Gerrit's tail bobbing in front of him—

WHOOMPH!!!

Something slams into his side, and all four legs go out from under him. There's a brief moment of panic as something pins him to the ground. Then he catches a whiff of a familiar scent, and the fear vanishes, because it's just J-Hay.

Jeff twists out from under the other wolf just as Gerrit comes trotting back, tongue out and tail wagging like the asshole he is. Neil and Jordy approach at a slightly more stately place, laughter written across their furry faces.

Pack. It's like home.

Tomorrow night, they'll meet up with the Philly wolves, all two of them, and run in accordance of the treaty, making community from thin air and shed fur. But tonight, tonight is all about them, about family, about running together.

Five voices rise toward the moon, twining between the shadowed leaves of the towering trees, melding into one wild voice with one name, and that was...

Pack.

**Author's Note:**

> For those who don't know, [Anthrocon](http://www.anthrocon.org)  is a convention where people come from many places to dress up in animal costumes ("furries") and celebrate anthropomorphic characters and the like. It happens in Pittsburgh every summer, at the David Lawrence Convention Center. During those few days, it is just so fun to go downtown and mingle with the furries, who are overall great people.


End file.
